Subway to Mt Olympus

I trust no Lums were fooled on April 1st.

Yep, April Fools day and I find myself disproportionately excited about getting out the house and down the street if only to visit my local job centre to give an update of all my job hunting activities. Perhaps I could try and fool them by telling them I am being headhunted by NASA for their upcoming manned mission to Mars, or maybe go into the detail of MYPY.COM the personal online pie customisation and delivery idea. Maybe there is a start up grant I could qualify for.

The burden of proof is on me, apparently, to provide evidence that my job search is active and ongoing. I say proof and evidence as if I have to bring in a signed note from all the HR departments that have binned my CV or maybe some grainy stills from CCTV showing me entering the newsagents empty handed, but coming out again, with a paper in hand. Actually what they require is for me to write a list of things I have managed to do. Like read the papers and browse the net. I think I might add "Watched Jeremy Kyle" to see if any of the end of show credits had no names against them. Its not the most inspiring of places I must say.

I did have a quick shifty through the available jobs and of course you cant help being drawn to all the , sorry, both the 50k jobs that were there, shining like hilltop beacons among the other 176 meets minimum wage positions. Unfortunately, OTE usually follows which of course means On Target Earnings. To make that commission you probably have to sell someone the The Eiffel Tower then harvest their organs before selling their kids to Romanian Gypsies.

I am glad to report however, that this will be my final hearing in front of the jobless panel, as I have actually been offered a job and for the last three days have been negotiating a salary. Which is a new experience for me and I fear I ended up caving in a little bit too early I think. But no matter, because on April 19th, I become an Olympian, yes, this is no April Fools Joke, I am joining The London Organising Committee Of The Olympic Games, LOCOG for short, though it does sound like your are trying to clear your throat when you say that. I'll be based in Canary Wharf in London, just right across the road from Gods own bacon rolls.

The more alert Lums among you will of course realise that the daily commute will be problematic from Kirkintilloch and you are right, I am afraid the Reekin Lum is relocating to the Heart of Darkness for a couple of years. That, in World Cup year, introduces massive risk, the thought of working in amongst that lot if England win the bloody thing is almost too ghastly to comprehend.

A team of agents are already on the case, trying to find me somewhere to live within my budget, and as soon as those cardboard boxes have been found and a vacant railway bridge been identified, I'll be off. At least I shouldn't have trouble finding something to reek about.

Gadgets are a mans best friend, they are fab, the look of them, the touch of them, how they sound and how they look in the dark, I am a sucker for a gadget. Well, reading about them and coveting thy neighbours gadgets anyway, but now I have to do some serious gadget replenishment which, for someone such as me, must be like the trippy nirvana LSD promised in the 60s. First up for consideration is the mobile phone. Now, when choosing a gadget, I like to read all the magazines and listen to what lovely Suzi Perry has to say on The Gadget Show, and that's it, I put almost total trust in them. What they are saying is the iphone is the one to go for, and anyone that has one, will tell you the same, but this is where it gets a bit twisted. I have this contrary streak running through me that means that because everyone else has one and they all gush about how fab they are, I don't want one, I want to be thought of as an individual thinker that cannot be bowed by the herd. Anyway, I have an ipod touch and I'm , er, appy enough with that. I want something new and a little bit riskier.

So, I've discounted all the rest and its a toss up between the hegemony of the iphone and the new contenders running the Android OS. The googlephone looks promising, but its not over here yet, so pretty much made up my mind to go with either the HTC Legend or Desire.

Down the street and an hour to kill before I was up in front of the beaks at the job centre, so I sadly ended up in Subway for lunch. I'm glad I had an hour because the number of decisions you have to make in there is overwhelming for my remaining brain cells. You have to chose what kind of bread, how long it should be, what filling of course, toasted or not, salad items to be stuffed in and finally what sauce out of a possible 6 or so. I reckon you could eat in there every lunchtime for 67 years, and not have the same thing twice, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they all taste roughly the same.

There is an odious form in front of me that requires attention, actually, the one odious form comes in three odious parts, and has been supplemented by an additional, equally odious form from the job centre, all to do with a redundancy insurance policy I have for a bank loan. I remember taking the insurance policy out, about 5 years and £1800 ago, all I had to do then was tick a box. Now when I want to claim, I need the services of a Philadelphia Lawyer and the patience of St Patient.

Lang may yer lum reek